Abbreviated
by Nysrina
Summary: (AU/AH - All Human) It was as brief as a candle, leaving only memories to keep the shadows at bay.


**Disclaimer**: I own none of them.

**Author's note: **Response to Kat Lady's Random Monthly Challenge at Dokuga, 'Turning 30' theme in 2009. I'm fluff-impaired, I tell you.

**Warning: **Character death.

**Summary: (AU/AH - All Human) **It was as brief as a candle, leaving only memories to keep the shadows at bay.

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**Abbreviated**

On the morning of Sesshoumaru's seventeenth birthday, a little after breakfast, Kagome came pedalling down the street and knocked on the door. As Fate would have it, Sesshoumaru was about to pick up the mail at his stepmother's request. He opened the door to Kagome standing on the porch with a package in her hands. Extending her arms, she presented the package to him, wished him a happy birthday and thanked him for spending the time to tutor her in Mathematics that year. Before he could finish thanking her properly for the unexpected gift, Inuyasha came jogging from the kitchen and dragged her off, saying something about going to the public library to do some research on a their school project. The two teenagers disappeared down the street on their bicycles, squabbling as they went.

Sesshoumaru could smell, faintly, something delicious from cloth-wrapped box. _Smells like… cake? What time did she wake up to bake? On a Saturday, no less,_ he wondered as he untied the knots of the furoshiki and opened the perforated container to reveal the treats. Miniature cakes in paper cups, each crowned with a dollop of cream flavoured with dark chocolate, sat neatly side by side in a plain box. They were still warm. Tucked in a corner of the box was a candle shaped like the number seventeen.

Each bite was delightful; the trace of orange in the sweet, moist cake was balanced by the bittersweet dark chocolate topping. Simple and divine_. Much like the amateur baker who made them,_ Sesshoumaru mused. She, to him, was a sweet girl with a sudden streak of tartness that was usually brought to fore by his brusque half-sibling; Inuyasha had a way of pushing her buttons. And since her father's demise two years ago, there was the occasional shadow in her clear brown eyes, dark as dark chocolate.

The following year, Sesshoumaru was awarded a scholarship, allowing him to attend a prestigious college in a city three hours away by train. As he was loading his belongings into the taxi that would take him to the station, Kagome came pedalling down the street to wish him good journey and good luck. She pestered him for his mobile number and gave him hers without his asking – a bold gesture as far as the unwritten etiquette involving personal communication devices went, one that made him unaccountably warm inside.

Sesshoumaru expected to hear from her once in a while, a text message at the very least, but that never happened. He could have called her himself, but an inexplicable hesitation stayed his hand; let her think he was too busy. He could have asked for news of her by asking his stepmother or Inuyasha whenever he called home, but he didn't. When the term break rolled around, he took up a temporary job. He didn't need it; he could have gone home but he didn't want to take the chance of bumping into Kagome. He could have gone for a short vacation – there was no shortage of places to go on a budget - but he didn't feel like doing so either.

He could not be accused of playing hard-to-get, not when there was no real game to play.

The exams came soon and as he burned the midnight oil one night, his mobile phone vibrated, dancing a jig on the surface of his desk. It was a text message. From Kagome.

_"It's midnight so it's technically your birthday. Happy Birthday!"_

He had forgotten his own birthday.

He did not bother to reply to her message, opting to call her instead. Needless to say, she was surprised. Even better, she was happy to hear from him. Sesshoumaru brushed off her apologies for interrupting whatever he was doing. The books can wait.

They talked until the batteries of their phones ran low. Kagome never knew that he had so much to talk about. Inuyasha's handsome brother was usually solemn and serious, and during the times when he tutored her, he rarely digressed from his guiding role to engage her in small talk, which was a good thing; Sesshoumaru's intense amber eyes, chiselled features snow-white hair and beautifully masculine voice distracted her to no end and it took enormous willpower to stay focused on understanding mathematical formulae without having to carry a scintillating conversation.

"Hey, I'm sorry I didn't send you anything but a text message. I did ask Inuyasha for your address, actually," Kagome confessed suddenly. Now, why did that information please and displease him at the same time?

"I'm making a day trip home this Saturday. What do you say we catch up then?" He was really planning to do some serious cramming this weekend but that was before he received her message. _The books can wait,_ he convinced himself again.

"Sure! What time do I swing by your place?"

"Not there," Sesshoumaru said, wondering if he had lost his mind to be so presumptuous. "At Café Sun, in town."

She was silent for a long, long time and he thought she might just turn him down. His phone beeped warningly; the battery was almost gone.

"Tell you what, I'll meet you at the train station and we'll go for a picnic," Kagome blurted hurriedly. Sesshoumaru only had moments to agree and to tell her his estimated arrival time before his phone went dead.

Saturday felt as distant as the dark side of Jupiter. But Saturday did come at last, and Kagome was waiting for him at the train station with a cheerful grin and a jaunty wave. She had packed a brunch, a veritable feast, which included a box of cupcakes and a candle shaped like the number eighteen. Kagome stuck the candle into one of the little cakes, lit the wick and urged him to make a wish.

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, made an ardent wish and blew out the tiny flame.

For the next few years, it became a tradition between them. No matter where they met or what they did to commemorate his natal day, there would be little cakes baked by Kagome and a candle in cast in the shape of the number that denoted his age. Each time he blew out the candle, Sesshoumaru made the same wish. Between one birthday and the next in those years, even when academic and career pursuits took them down different paths and to different places, there were daily calls, daily text messages and the occasional weekend hours-long commute just to spend a couple of hours with one another.

They held each memory made close to their hearts, every one of them a glowing ember that kept Kagome and Sesshoumaru warm all those miles and hours and days apart.

As soon as the candle was extinguished during the modest celebration on his twenty-sixth birthday, Sesshoumaru pulled out a black velvet box from his pocket and rendered Kagome speechless with a question she had hoped he would ask one day. That day, the wish Sesshoumaru had been making on his birthday for the past eight years came true when she accepted the ring and kissed him softly on his lips.

If he were asked, Sesshoumaru would say that the most unforgettable birthday he had would be his twenty-eighth. That year, they experienced their first separation as spouses. While they may still be within the same political boundary and the distance could be overcome by few hours on train, it was quite a pang to bear for a pair whose signatures were still wet on their marriage documents. The three-day medical convention he was attending was three days too long, in his opinion. On the last evening of the event, Sesshoumaru trudged back to his hotel room with marginally better spirits. He was looking forward to a hot shower, a good night's sleep and the trip home after breakfast the following day. Unlocking the door, he was surprised to find the room illuminated. Sweeping his gaze across the chamber, his sight registered the presence of an angel draped sinuously on the couch.

Skin paler than eighteen-carat gold, black hair bound up in a sophisticated twist, clear brown eyes smouldering and hooded, Kagome was dripping sensuality all over the piece of furniture. She had a broad silver ribbon wound a few times around her chest, terminating in a floppy bow.

Sesshoumaru dropped the briefcase the was carrying, kicked the door shut with a backward jerk of his heel and turned the lock without looking.

"Would you like to unwrap your present?" Kagome asked coyly, flicking the dangling ends of the ribbon with dainty fingers. With a smirk that promised nothing but pleasure, Sesshoumaru knelt before her, took one end of the ribbon between his teeth and pulled. The gauzy band slipped off her torso with a soft slither. And the little box of cakes that Kagome customarily made was left forgotten until the wee hours of the morning.

Today, Kagome woke up early on Sesshoumaru's birthday to bake him the little cakes that he enjoyed so much, just as she had been doing for the past thirteen years. She never made them on any other day or occasion. The cakes appeared only on his birthday. On this morning, she made them with the same love and care she did each year.

It would have been his thirtieth birthday if he had not volunteered for that relief mission to assist landslide victims in Thailand four months ago. The landslide that killed dozens and stranded hundreds wasn't what snatched him from her.

It was a snake bite that cut his life short.

No one knew the details, exactly, but the mishap happened in the office of the mission base camp. At least that was what Kagome was told. Sesshoumaru's fellow doctors found him dying on the floor near the light switches. It was speculated that he may have encountered a wayward krait that had stolen inside the office while he was about to switch on the lights. In the dim interior, he might have unknowingly nudged the reptile with a foot, netting himself a fatal strike. While kraits tended to be sluggish in the day, they can move with lightning speed in defense. With the nearest city hospital two hours away by road and no serum on hand, there was nothing anyone can do. Despite the tourniquet they tied around his calf and the attempt to suck out the venom, Sesshoumaru breathed his last fifteen minutes after he was found by his peers.

Kagome's kitten heels made muted tapping sounds on the polished granite floor. The columbarium was quite deserted at this time of the morning as she made her way to the niche housing Sesshoumaru's ashes. With care, she unpacked her offerings, arranged them before the plain white urn and placed a candle shaped like the number thirty on the cake in the middle. She lit the candle with a steady hand that belied her grief and stood to watch the wax melt slowly, steadily consumed by the swaying flame. A tear slipped over her cheek and hung on her chin, mirroring the fat wax droplet wept by the candle.

"Happy birthday, baby," she whispered, smiling despite her pain.

It was brief and it had been sweet but for the occasional streak of tartness. Now, after the flame had been snuffed out, there was little left but memories, sacred recollections as eternal as the sun, keeping the shadows at bay.

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**Last words:** Any and all inaccuracies with regards to geography and natural disasters of Thailand, and the consequences of a snake bite are entirely due to my own ignorance. I don't think a relief mission team would be ill-prepared for the possibility of dealing with snake-bites, especially if stationed in a region where such snakes are found. Also, if I ran roughshod yet again over prescribed rites and rituals, blame no one else but the lazy author. Just suspend disbelief and enjoy, _ja_


End file.
